UNDERWORLD: RESURGENCE
by psoims2005
Summary: The American coven reacts to events in the Old World. The hunt for Selene is on. CHAPTER 9 is up.
1. Chapter 1

Sunlight.

Tears that she would pull back.

They found a boat, she kept watch behind them as they floated on, guns at the ready, eyes scanning the water's surface. He rowed for over an hour before she moved, sitting now with her legs across the bottom of the small fishing rig. She put her head back and closed her eyes, resting, letting rays of sun soak in. Her wound had healed, and she was exhausted. New blood, Corvinus blood, that now coursed through her had kept her alive despite having been impaled by one of Marcus' splines. The strength she had, that she had defeated him and survived. . .and then sunlight, it amazed even her. But this new war was far from over, the war between her, Michael, and well, perhaps everyone else. Her mind went back to Viktor, his admission that he killed her family, the life that she knew for centuries ended in less than a week. . .

_. . .'there, there my child, you're safe now'. . .the whirl of the sword through air, the ring of metal on bone...my family murdered, and for what? _She startled awake when he spoke.

"How does it feel?" His eyes squinted toward her, he smiled.

She looked to him, hoping he didn't notice her absence. "Warm", she hesitated, "warmth, and death. . ." she sighed, forgetting him for a moment. He waited. "What will I go back to? What will I find?"

He was thinking it too. "Honestly, I don't know. We shouldn't return to Budapest, not yet. There are bound to be vampires left who will want revenge, who don't know that it's over; it's way too dangerous, for both of us."

She caught his stare, _us. . .he's staying with me, _she thought. . .but she wanted to return, she ached to see the desolation that was now Ordoghaz, her home, to regroup with any who would believe her, that she acted only to protect the coven. But, she knew he was right, there was no purpose to taking such a chance. "I agree". She looked away. She knew where they'd have to go.

* * *

A day later and four thousand miles away, preparations were being made. Those aristocrats in the New World coven didn't live the lazy, self-serving lifestyle that Kraven allowed at Ordoghaz. They certainly had their pleasures and wealth, but under Amelia, there was training, rules were enforced, and there were plans laid out long in advance. She had been a warrior, and was this not a war? So centuries before, she envisioned the worst that could happen. Her orders were known by the three of the oldest vampires under her, that if the houses were overrun and the elders slain, these were prepared to take her place, and that of Viktor and Marcus if necessary. She and Viktor undermined the power and authority of Markus from the start, however they believed that should either of the Corvinus brothers die that the end of their species would come about, as an elder Markus' usefulness was in obvious question. 

Word of the slaughter of Lady Amelia and her consorts came--ambushed by Lycans, possibly aided by Selene, who then awakened Viktor, only to lead him to a trap and cowardly slay him--there was no one left who would recount the truth of Kraven's deceipt--the real cause of Amelia's death, or his slaying by Markus. Lady Catherine and Lords Henry & Edward took their place as leaders of the American coven. Under them, more than 3000 vampires lived unknown to the humans around them in New York City. Their strength was greater than those of their Old World counterparts, their blood untainted and their lineage pure, as most of them were directly sired by the first Death Dealers, soldiers present on the night of William's capture. Catherine was sired by Amelia herself, and had all the memories of that night, all the secrets shared by both covens. She hence had special interest in handling the matter herself. She would travel to Europe with a large lot of Death Dealers, to investigate the actions of the traitor, Selene, and to rebuild the Old World coven. She dispelled talk in the New World houses that Selene was justified, that Viktor had deceived her and used her to control Markus and William, giving righteous cause for her actions. Catherine herself knew the truth of Selene's family, but the laws of the chain prohibited treason, and regardless of Selene's history, the covens should be protected before anything else. There would be no excusing treachery and murder of an elder, especially by someone who had defiled herself. . ._likely intimate with a Lycan. . ._the words stuck in her throat with disgust.

It would be a week before Catherine and the Death Dealers would have their equipment set up and be fully operational in one of the larger safe houses in Budapest. One of the first things she did was to go and survey the damage at Ordoghaz, beneath smoldering ruins she found the crypt where the elders there had rested, their tombs empty, and her fury was renewed. The search for Selene began.

* * *

Selene and Michael hiked for a whole day before coming upon a small town, and were able to find a four-wheel-drive that they could steal--they'd need it if they were to take back roads all the way the Farmos, which they have to do if they were to avoid being seen. There was a home in Farmos that Viktor once took her to, not long after her new life began. A retreat of sorts, he said that no one knew of it, it's existence a complete unknown to anyone in the coven, it's seclusion and fenced grounds would keep it that way. 

When they finally arrived, it was 4 am. Farmos was a small village, the side road to the hideout itself was a good distance from the nearest farm, and especially given the hour, the home was utterly quiet. Although tiredness drove them to climb right into bed, the need to unwind and let go of the events of the week kept them from sleep. Selene was anxious about the days ahead, but for now they were safe, and they were together. They reached for each other, finding comfort in touch, in being held, eventually they drifted off to sleep.

Hours passed.

Michael felt her suddenly jerk awake, she sat up. It was light now. Certain she'd heard something, he moved to his feet. "What is it?!" She jumped from the bed, twisting away, looking disoriented, her back slamming into the near wall, knocking a hanging picture from its place. She hissed and clutched at her chest as though gasping for air. "What's wrong!?", he demanded. His mind went wild. . ._stray bullet?_ Had they been found and attacked?

"Michael!. . ." He stormed to her, gripping her shoulders. Her eyes darted everywhere but at him, as though she sought desperately to escape. ". . .I can't. . . this. . .", she couldn't finish. A hand went to her head where she made a fist, wove it into her hair, and she grimaced as though in great pain, and exhaled a feral moan. As she changed, her eyes vivid blue, her teeth bared, she grabbed at his forearms, trying to shove him away. He held her harder, studying her, _Selene!_ she couldn't hear him any more. _What's wrong!?!_ Faster than he could anticipate, she slipped from his grasp and punched him in the mouth. As she took another swing at him, he ducked and used her momentum to spin her and grab her from behind, pinning her arms to her. She was stronger than before, stronger than he expected, forcing him to transform just to maintain hold on her.

As they grappled, they tumbled over a nearby chair to the floor, all his weight on her and he heard her gasp, the impact had knocked the wind from her. They stayed there, his arms wrapped around her, then his legs, _Stop!_ trying to hold her still as she groaned and fought, he couldn't let go. W_hat 's wrong?_ Suddenly she weakened, her resistance faded and she began to convulse, her eyes rolling back. He rolled off but held her, as it went on for several minutes, then finally the seizures stopped, she passed out.

He pushed himself back from her, sitting up on the floor. He tasted blood and looked down, wiping some away from his chin with the side of his hand. As he caught his breath, he leaned to her again, brushing her hair from her face. _What the hell just happened?_ She was out.


	2. Chapter 2

It was noon. She lay on the bed on her back. A pillar of light streamed in through an opening in the drapes. Through slits she saw sunlight beaming in and took in a sharp breath, jerked her hand up toward her face, defensively, reflexively, then dropped it down on her chest then down onto the duvet, too weak to protest, slowly coming to, unmoving again, unknowing again, eye lashes black and fluttering, trying to stay open, trying to focus.

Michael launched into the room with a bag in tow. He knew she'd need to feed, _maybe that was the problem. _She had been unconscious for hours and he couldn't watch her sleep anymore--he wished he'd thought of it when they first arrived, so he'd gone out to the nearest homestead to seek out a cow, figured it would be the best source from which to feed her. He saw her fidget, she appeared to be in pain, completely worn out--he almost hoped that so. He also knew that if she appeared this weak or in pain, that it was bad, beyond bad. _Was this the result of her injury? _He sees her shudder, sweat beading up on her forehead, he thinks she's about to be sick. "Selene." He sits next to her, slowly, careful not to jostle her on the mattress. He placed the bag on the bedside table, opened it. He touches her hand, she's on fire. "Jesus Christ, Selene." Louder, "Selene, are you with me?" She shakes her head and trembles, her breath hitching in her throat. "Do you want to turn onto your side?" She nodded. He helped her, rolling her by her right shoulder and right hip, then pulled her knees up to her, letting her curl herself into a ball on her left side, and now she held her fists on either side of her head, the air hissed between her teeth as she breathed.

"Michael!?" Now fully awakened by the pain in her head, "something's wrong. . ." He reached into the bag, in doctor mode now, he couldn't work fast enough.

"I know, I know, sshhh, I got blood, you just need to feed, you'll be ok." He didn't know what else to do for her or if she'd really be ok, but the last time she fed was just after midnight yesterday on Corvinus' ship, on Corvinus' blood. . .and that was a lifetime ago for him. He picked her shoulders up off the bed and sat behind her, moved her so that she could lean her back against him. He put the jar to her lips. _Come on Selene,_ "Open your mouth. . .Open your MOUTH!"_ Fuck._ He laid her back onto her side and climbed off. He'd have to give her a transfusion. He pulled her right arm to him, removed her arm guard and started to push up her sleeve. "Lemme see, hold on, this will just be a little prick. . ." He had gathered medical supplies and canning jars with lids he had found while scrounging around the old house. He opened up a needle and looked for a vein to put it in; with her dehydration, he settled on a vein on the back of her hand, then withdrew the needle, the IV catheter in place.

Within minutes, she was visibly more comfortable. "How's your head?" He placed the back of his hand on the side of her neck, _Sshh! _amazed at the heat.

She cannot answer. He waited, watched her, fed her, kept a hand on her, _Can I pray for her? _

"Just hold on, a little longer". He opened another jar of the blood he'd collected, and swapped the lids, put the cap with IV tube on the new jar. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxing, the fever easing, the pain in her head subsiding slightly. "I'll be right back." He returned with a wet hand towel, pressed it to her forehead, she didn't hestitate to take it from him, burying her face in it, she stayed this way for a long time.

Then she exhaled, a cleansing breath, twisted her shoulder back, flat on the mattress, kept her knees pulled toward her. He felt her neck, the side of her face. "Your temperature is dropping."

She rubbed her eyes, clearing her vision. "What's happened?" She exhaled the words, almost afraid.

"I don't know. You hadn't eaten in more than 24 hours, and Markus. . ." he passed his hand over her heart where Markus had pierced her, "the last blood you fed on was Corvinus', I don't know if that. . .I just don't know." He hated not knowing, and this was out of his league as far as medical knowledge was concerned. "We can hope it doesn't happen again, but we should assume. . .", he occupies himself with the IV, ". . .that it _will_, we have to make sure you keep your strength up." He opened a third jar, then took her hand, folded it into both of his.

"I'm sorry. . ."

"You've nothing to be sorry for, you were ill." It was true, but he didn't tell all, he was afraid for her.

"I mean, there are important matters to attend to, plus, I feel a world better." Embarrassed, she looked around, precious daylight is wasting.

"But you're not. You need to sleep."

"But I can't do this. . .I _don't_ need this, not now." She _was _spent.

"Has this happened before?" She shakes her head. "Have you been sick at all since you were turned?"

"No."

"Tell me, before you passed out, did you experience any hallucinations. . ."

"No."

"Feelings of deja vu, anything?" He pressed.

"No, nothing, why?"

He shook his head, _Nothing._ "I just want to figure you out." He smiled to her and looked at the now empty jar, her third. "Enough?" She gave a so-so nod. "Can you eat?" She shook her head, showing her apprehension at the thought of swallowing anything. He removed the catheter from her hand. "Just promise me", he cut back, leaning so that his face was directly over hers, eye to eye, "that you'll sleep." She smiled, barely, ready to close her eyes.

He left.

She slept.

* * *

Down in the cellar, Michael had discovered the armory, came upstairs overloaded with guns and ammo, lots of magazines already stacked,_ I'd say she's been here before, _for automatic rifles and pistols. He'd place weapons at every corner of the house, in every room, have them ready to run if need be. There was a long gun case with a shotgun inside, was surprised to see anything like it here, ornate carvings, rich wood - a side by side - he loaded it, he'd keep that by the bed, _2 shots - last resort._

His mind just burned for a cause for whatever the hell attack she had and the seizures, it wasn't Markus, after all Michael was a hybrid. . .but _they_ had fought. The only variable was the blood of Alexander Corvinus, but again Michael himself was a Corvinus descendant.

* * *

Tunnels wound almost endlessly under the Kerepesi Synagogue, bends and dead ends, one could die down here and not be found for decades, such was the unuse of cellars and storage beneath the church. It was an excellent buy, the vampires left the church itself vacant and wouldn't let it out even when the faithful inquired, rendering the whole structure devoid of souls. In the early 1800's they sealed off all street level access and boarded up windows, making the church appear completely abandoned, and sold off the annexed grounds that 50 years later would become the Kerepesi Cemetery. No one would ever guess that vampires completed their ruse by building a passageway that made its way underground and started 4 blocks over in a department store basement, the door to said passageway was marked 'Maintenance Room' and was kept locked with a deadbolt. They completed another construction project underneath the church that added living quarters, and the main chamber that would house the elders in an emergency. Once, a human man was taken there to be interrogated, was tortured for days, until he died. His screams echoed down those halls with a belly-sickening whine, as at the end he just cried, asked to die. But no one above ground would hear a thing, would ever know what was taking place in a vampiric safe house _below a bleeding church_. It is here Catherine positioned 20 or so Death Dealers - they had access to traffic cameras and their own security cams throughout the city. She would establish her residence at another of Viktor's mansions east of Visegrad, about 14 miles north of Budapest. Much to do. 

Catherine had first sent out her troops en masse to take an overall survey of the city, i.e., see what they could smell. The stray vampires they'd met up with knew nothing of the recent battle wherein Markus was killed, everyone was painfully aware that he'd razed Ordoghaz and those who escaped had scattered throughout Budapest, but their Old World history seemed to end there. Concensus didn't favor Selene. Catherine's Death Dealers systematically started raiding their own vampire safe houses, even though the system showed activity at only a few, but none of them led to Selene. Catherine changed her order. "Bring me a lycan."

Bullets flying, _Spray and pray,_ the Lycans wanted the war's end to be a reality and it showed in their ability to hit their targets. These were a new brand of Death Dealers, the only organized vampires they encountered in more than a week's time, on the hunt, strutting with purpose, impeccably attired, none so casually dressed as some they'd seen before the war ended, and it seemed they weren't interested in killing Lycans either.

They happened to pick up the scent, a gun fight ensued and one poor dog became separated from the pack.

Tymon. The Lycans were foraging for food, then they were being attacked, really, after recent events, the last thing they expected. Who would be ordering battle, Vampire upon Lycan? The surprise element cost him, backed into a dead end alley, and when he saw that those bloods had him cornered he turned and ran at the vampires, win or die, but that wasn't an option they left him. As they filled him with drugs from several tranq guns in the lot, he roared, he struggled, his back on the ground, and he lost.

Under the church he was taken. Catherine wanted to tear through him, through everyone in her path to get to Selene, but this, this would be far easier. He awoke in his human form, shackles held his wrists straight over head, taut chains from the ceiling, ankles chained at the floor. He panicked. Who wouldn't.

"You weren't expecting us. Why is that?" Her voice behind him.

"I only know what I've seen, and you only know what you have heard." He's looks around, anxious, _kill me, just kill me_.

"What does that mean? What have you seen?" Toying with him.

He doesn't know her, she's not one that he's ever encountered. "I know my business, and I know we've been at war with the Vampires for centuries, but that is over now, or so I thought."

She paced slowly before him, ". . .and why is it over?"

"Because Lucian is dead, and so is your leader, I saw him slain by one of your own!" He's growing more impatient than she is, she seems to know all of this already, _but still she asks?_ "What can I tell you that you don't already know?!"

"This vampire, the _girl_ who killed Viktor?" she spat, pissed off, "did she act alone?" She knows this already too.

"Everyone knows of Selene, what she did, and if you want to know, she was protecting someone, a hybrid, and it was they by themselves that ended this war, they did what you would not centuries ago!!." He yelled the end.

"Do you know him?"

"Michael, I know _of _him. But I've had my run-ins with her. . ." She cut him off.

"So you could tell me if you knew something, or if you hear of them in the City?"

"Perhaps, but to what end. . ."

"You should remember your place!!" Softening, " I could spend days that I don't have killing you _or_ I can, in just seconds," she paused, seeing him react, puzzled, "offer you a place in the coming kingdom. . .and great wealth would be yours, and any with you who take my side."

_Appealing, and too easy._ "What do you mean, the coming. . ."

Her tone sharper, mightier. "I know Selene will come here and attempt to rebuild the house, but she likely won't find an ally in any vampire in Budapest," she avoided details, now stood inches from him, squaring him in the eyes, "She'd well know how to avoid other vampires or to find them if she wished, but Lycans. . . it's possible you'd have some advantage, that's where you'd come in. And this Michael, perhaps he would seek out other Lycans, come to trust you. . .that is how you were bred--to be loyal. And I could give you beyond what you've ever imagined."

Tymon considered long his current position, and then he considered longer his potential position. He'd been bought before.

_Had he_ _ever struck a deal._


	3. Chapter 3

Quotes from a copywrited work, the motion picture Underworld, are contained in all chapters, as well as reference to characters therein, all owned by Screen Gems & Lakeshore Entertainment.

* * *

_"He's too powerful for you alone."_

_"You are the only one older than he is, the only one stronger. You could have killed him yourself."_

_"No matter what he's become, he is my son. Y__ou are the last hope left. There is only one way to defeat him. . .quickly now, before there is no more legacy left in my veins."_

_"What will I become?"_

_"The future."_

* * *

She had slept until evening, by now there was no indication left at all that she'd been ill. He watches her, listens, both of them relaxed, his head supported by his hand, he's facing her. The tiredness completely gone from her face, she says as much with her expressions as she does her words. But she's there with him, unwavering from his eyes, when he talks about life, death, about his wife. He needs to. Years of medical school never prepared him for death, exposed him to it, yes, made him contemplate its inevitability, yes. But to have it come into your home and take half your soul, to really miss someone, to have nothing left but guilt and devastation, to wonder why you should go on, that was another thing altogether. 

"Now, I've seen enough death to last me a lifetime." He caught that and grunted a laugh. _How do you count the lifetime of an immortal?_ With the prospect that he'd never die, living like this, hunting, hunted, killing, dying. . .did she go through this after her family was killed, when she was turned?

What was it all for?

They had become suddenly linked, by need, by danger, but not by love, not at first. Some people you meet in your life, you see them and it's as though you look through them, you see nothing, no substance, no truth. He'd seen in her what he didn't believe he'd ever find again. She risked death to save him and to correct the situation in Viktor's house, and why? Because it was _right and just_. She had killed _how many_ innocents in her 600 years and now she wants to stop it all; he can't imagine the terribleness that had surrounded her, shaped her, for so long, and yet here she is at this incredibly human place.

W_hat's it all for? _To be with her.

They had been sitting, opposite each other, for hours at the formal dining table, 3 oil lamps bunched together in a row between them, illuminating her features, his eyes flashing.

Midnight now, there is much to do.

She had arrayed a small lot of 9mil pistols on a chamois before her. _Drop the magazine._ _Eject the round._ She was fluid with her hands, focused on her words, all the while dismantling each weapon, easily field stripping each each of the Italian-made guns as she spoke. _Slide. _Michael watched, caught by the simplicity of it, no tools needed. _Barrel. _"I'll be heading into the City two hours before dawn, by then any vampires about will be thinking of getting to shelter soon." But _she_ would not. _Frame._ "I hope to locate a cache of cloned blood, as well I need to find anyone that I can trust as quickly as possible, and any that I cannot." _Clean._ _Reassemble._ It played out in her mind, "I'll likely find them at or near the safe houses. . ." _A drop of oil at the ejection port,_ _rack the slide, dry fire,_ it was all second nature to her.

"You won't go alone." It was matter-of-fact.

She ignored him. With her thumb, she flicked all the bullets from several of the magazines, inspecting them for corrosion or discoloring, it had been two years since supplies were replenished at the house, can't afford misfires. He watched her, his forehead pinched, _Come on, argue with me,_ she now had a hundred or so bullets lined up in perfect rows, primers facing her, she rolled them slowly, each row with the side of her palm, picking one up, here, there, randomly. Satisfied, she began loading the mags.

Matter of fact. "Yes Michael, I have to see the situation for myself." She looked at him, repeatedly tapped each newly reloaded mag into the palm of her left hand, bullets end up, like a smoker does before he pulls a cigarette from the pack.

He can't believe her. "No, you don't have to see the situation for yourself," sarcastic. "That's _stupid,_ especially after today, you don't know. . ." He reacted emotionally and physically, his knee jerked and shoved the table leg, making it chirp on the wood floor, she looked up at the sound. "Why can't you wait a few days, why does this have to happen today, why now?!" He thinks it: _Why are you always so ready to die?_

"_I'll_ decide what I'll do." She stopped, looked away, she didn't mean to snap, not at him. "I have to do this, I can't endanger us both, besides, they'll be less likely to detect me alone." _She was right,_ she could slip into Budapest unnoticed, her scent less pungent to other vampires than his. It was the smart thing to do.

He leaned back. As usual, she didn't participate in the drama, _he hated that,_ she just kept working. She'd slap a mag into one gun, then the next, rack the slide, drop the mag and press into it another round, then _Slap_ the once-again-full mag into the full-sized combat Beretta. _15 plus 1_.

He glared at her, she looked into him, _Slap!_ _that damned metallic click,_ then looked down. _She won._

* * *

Tymon had had his share of run-ins with bloods, he had himself fought Selene, Rigel, he knew many of their names. Once, years ago in a gang garage, she had shot him 3 times, he thought she'd finish him for sure, but then he saw the slide on her gun lock back, she was empty, he could take her, they both held a breath. He lunged, they fought, he had cut her, clawed her bad _on her belly_, _her shock, mouth open, __her back sliding down the wall,_ he remembered, he smiled, _Nice!_ _He would take her head to Lucian as a trophy. She gripped the wound, her blood oozed, hands red,_ then more vampires arrived and kicked his ass, instead he ran for his life. 

A group of Lycans listened to him, "How do we get to her if Michael is with her, we can't fight him and win." Others, "How do you know Catherine can be trusted?"

"I don't. But we've never got an offer like this from an elder, Kraven was no elder and he was weak, he couldn't fulfill his arrangement with Lucian. This is an_ elder_. And all we have to do is find Selene."

They sucked up his offer like still-warm fresh meat, they'd give up this life they'd known, live it up somewhere, they'd bring Selene to 'justice'. Easy, just keep ears and nostrils open.

"Alive", he reminded them, "this isn't a head hunt." That would remain to be seen.

* * *

She pulled out of the garage behind the house at 4:30am, headlamps off on the ML until she made pavement. 37 miles to Budapest, next to her a war bag with extra mags. An M4 leaned against the seat from the floor, forward grip just within reach, music and lights blaring as soon as she was at speed. 

30 minutes and she was within the city limits, the street names and the dark were all that felt familiar. On the West, she neared a safe house, no scent, no one about, and not in a good while. She parked a block away and across the street, hovering a bit to make sure the air was clear, she headed in. She had to get in, gather all the bags of blood she could, get out and get away, motion sensors would light up as soon as she went inside. Successful, she drove on, north, she'd end up downtown later, score some dry ice and a cooler-they'd have enough synthetic blood for probably two weeks. She hopped on the highway that led to Mogyorod then she slowed again, crossed the rail tracks and turned right, lights off. She looked up, scanning bottom to top, the coven owned the whole building, _Surely some came here_, then the scent hit her, just one, but from where she didn't know. She watched down the way, left then right, kept the SUV moving, and turned right. Then she saw him, a figure in black, walking the same direction as she drove, away from the safe house, and she would pass him in 25 feet. Turn back or drive on? either way he'd spot her. He smelled her before she'd decide, caught on and spun back, stepping into the street, facing her a dozen feet away. _Run him down?_ "Selene!"

_"Emil",_ she sighed. _What luck._ She stopped and got out. He placed his hand on her arm, genuine.

"I didn't know what happened with you, since Viktor. You know they're after you." Fact. She trusted him, he had listened to her when no one else did, even when Kraven had her locked up. He and Nathaniel were very close. When Nathaniel was separated from Rigel and her during the gunfight at the train station and Kraven wouldn't send out a team of Death Dealers to find him, Emil was furious and distraught.

"What _is_ Kraven planning?. . .wait. . .", she glanced about, gave a sideways nod toward the ute, "get in."

Off they went. "Oh, you don't know. Kraven is dead, Ordoghaz is in ruins, destroyed by Markus. He killed many of us, they've said he's a hybrid, and perhaps the most powerful being alive. There was already murmuring about him before his scheduled awakening, no one wanted him as leader. . .Selene, nearly everyone's gone."

She knew the situation was grave, grieving would keep. "Markus is dead. I killed him myself."

He looks at her in disbelief. "Well, I'm afraid you have a more serious problem." He watched her reaction. "Lady Catherine is here, apparently to see to your execution."

Her brow furrowed, she tries to process all that he's telling her. "_Lady_ Catherine? The American coven has no say here, what is going on?" Not at all what she'd planned on.

"She says that she acts under Amelia's authority, she and two American elders were appointed long ago in the event of an emergency, I suppose this would qualify."

Selene stares straight ahead, _this isn't good._

"There's nothing left of the mansion." She's inquiring, trying to picture her home of the last few hundred years.

"Rubble, it's still smoldering."

She would drop him off a couple of blocks over. They sat. "How many are left?" She prepares herself for the answer.

"40, 50? And I hate to say, not all would be happy to see you."

"How many can I count on?"

"Myself, 6 or 7 others maybe. Believe me Selene, no one was pleased that Viktor deceived you, but they do believe that you destroyed their way of life, that's a lot to accept. They'll continue to hunt you under Catherine. She's at Visegrad."

She slammed her hand onto the wheel, gripped it. "Dammit! The books and documents there, I'd hope to plead my case to the coven. . . Damn" she whispered. Defeat. She'd wished to unite the clans of central Europe, but the political changes now in motion would not work in her favor, perhaps even a pardon for herself not possible. _ Catherine had no right to Visegrad._

"What will you do?"

"I'll stay in the city for a few hours still, I want to check on any Lycan activity. I hope to gain some support there, they don't want the war to continue any more than we do. Can you arrange a meeting, for tonight?" He'd do it. Midnight.

"Wait, where will you go? Sunrise is in less than an hour."

"I'll be fine." She considered telling him, but what would that serve.

* * *

She took to a rooftop above the underground, the tunnels where she slew Viktor, Lycan scent strong there. The sunrise shone pink against Parliament and Heroes' Square, a breathtaking view she'd never seen before. Hours later, she'd seek cover and admittedly, shade, and crouch down next to a chiller on the roof where she could still maintain her view. Traffic passed below her, commuters busy on their way. The scent faded, she saw no one. She'd return to this spot. 

She couldn't help herself, she drove out of the City heading Northeast, her curiosity concerning Ordoghaz getting the best of her. As she neared, the smell of smoke lingered in the air, the sight was almost too much. She stopped two hundred yards from the old front gate, left wide open, and turned off the engine. While she thought the silence at the house in Farmos was too much, wisps of smoke carried away her memories of her life at the mansion, robbed all sound, all thought, it all disappeared, the quiet throbbed in her ears.

She should go. She started the engine, and saw her hands tremble as she placed them on the wheel, she held it tighter, shook her head, pain sudden and sharp behind her eyes, _No you don't,_ trying to blink it away. She floored it back toward the house, she had a 50 mile drive ahead of her, it had to be quick. _What the hell is the matter with me? _She grabbed a bag of blood from the war tote and dug in, finishing it quickly, felt the episode subside. She'd make it back.

* * *

They sat at one end of the long dining table, it's already become their place where they fall together, discuss, wish, stare at each other, plan. Right now she looks more lost than ever, he thinks. 

"So, this Catherine. . .what does that mean for you?"

"Not much good I'm afraid. I'll return tonight to meet with others from the house."

"Any problems? how do you feel?" This time, he won't even protest her going alone.

"I'm perfectly well." She should tell him. " 'Though, I am tired, maybe I should rest for the afternoon."

There was nothing else _to_ do.

She went upstairs toward their bedroom, he followed. Something caught her attention.

"Oh", she exhaled at the sight, going to the shotgun leaned in the corner, she went for it, "This. . .it isn't used." He sees the gun in her hands, she sees his confusion, _It's a gun._ She holds it out horizontally, right side up, he reads the name. _Purdey and Sons, so?._

"It's a gun." His eyes funny.

"It's quite old. It was made for me." She paused, considered abandoning the story. Michael still doesn't get it. "It was the 30's, I forget the year, the _1830's._ . .", she clarifies for him, a little mischief in her voice. She tilts her head at the item before her, its history a bit too telling. He forgets, likely everything she owns is old, _Why this?_

"We had travelled to London, before the two covens parted ways, and he bought me this." Smile. "Viktor took me to a well-known gunsmith, we were actually greeted at the door by a man in tux and tails, and the owner himself, James Purdey, showed me the piece." Michael now takes in the deep color of the wood, the elaborate engraving, scroll work, a scene of a garden with a woman mourning her dead lover reclined against her bosom, her arm extended, her hand accusing the heavens, and carved all over - vines & roses, highlighted by the backdrop of gold. "He had me put on white cotton gloves just to hold it. Viktor had surprised me with it, I can only imagine its value." She almost let go a chuckle at the memory. She heads back downstairs, into the Great Room. She's led him, he follows her as she speaks. She turned and laid it on the mantle, propping it against the brickwork as if to display it, _so that guests who'll never come here can admire it,_ her fingers lingering across its ornate carvings for few seconds, and let go a soft breath as she turned back to him. "It's just not used." She brushes her hands together, wiped off the sentimentality, she'd like to forget.

She cannot.


	4. Chapter 4

"Your impatience will be the end of you Catherine. Do you know _how long_ I've waited for the fortune and power that lies before me?"

"I've have been patient, for 200 years I've . . ." She stops at the slap of his palm on his armrest.

"Yes, that's only as long as our arrangement has been in place." He eyes her now, serious and raising his voice. "If you had 600 years to wait, you would know true forbearance!"

"Unfortunately it seems, we need each other." She wanted to expand their search to outside the city, but he insisted they wait for Selene to come to _them_, and without Michael.

He does need her. She knew he could kill her, but right now she was feeling quite important. For nearly 800 years she'd played down her drive for dominance until it became lust. As Amelia's consort at first, she saw things done in the name of the right of the coven, the right of the elders, and she'd held her tongue. She saw that power begets more power and with it, privilege. Before she knew it, Amelia was untouchable, could do no wrong. But now, vampires from every clan were responding to _her leadership_, they would come from every country in Europe to create an army, under her they would take back the power that is theirs. They would rule Europe with terror, no longer living in shadow. She envisioned vampires enjoying abundance and pleasure that rightly bespeaks their species, they would freely feed on human blood again.

She'd hold her tongue a bit longer.

* * *

That night, Selene took a different route around the city. She'd meet Emil at the safehouse off the highway, she looked forward to it. 

She once had saved his life, he being younger than her by 450 years, and they became comrades. He had been recently sired, and was looking to fight, looking for sex, youthful optimism laced with alcohol. He'd got into it with another blood over a female in another clan. Emil had offended him, disrespected his mate, so they beat him and were about to dump him at a Lycan den nearby. She was patroling, she followed them. When his situation appeared grave, she dropped from the ledge above, right into their path. The leader challenged her to a fight to save the boy - if she wanted his life she'd have to barter with hers - and 'no weapons', he said. He faced her like a boxer with something to prove, but he was drunk and arrogant, and she put him down easily. As she and Emil walked away, the older blood got up and shot her twice in the back, they surrounded her. If not for Rigel watching from overhead, they'd have finished her then and there.

_Some army I've mustered._ She looked into their faces, they were the same lazy bloods from Ordoghaz, nothing had changed. They may want change, but would not expend themselves to attain it.

She told them about Kraven's treachery, how he arranged for the murder of Amelia, and what led to Viktor's death, then Markus' - but when she explained the Corvinus bloodline, that the one man was father to both vampire and lycan, and that she had drank from him, it was too much to hear; that Viktor was not the oldest and first, well, it undermined their very existence.

"Visegrad is rightfully Viktor's house. What's left of our history is hidden there. I need information contained there in order to. . ."

"_You_ need?" Thomas countered her, standing in the middle of the group. "Emil, you didn't tell me that this would be about her. I'm not getting mixed up in this to save her ass!" He pointed at Selene, she kept her seat, kept her temper, this was starting poorly. "If you have something to offer to better my situation, that's all I want to hear. If not. . ."

"If you'd listen, our history books will verify our common ancestry, with that, I can justify my actions to Catherine."

"I didn't risk myself to come here so that you can justify what you've done!"

"And I can't help you without getting what I need. I can't do anything while a fugitive from the coven!"

He dared her. "Maybe Catherine is right, maybe you do deserve to die." Like that, she was in his face, she didn't need this idiot threatening her. She considered killing him, he just proved that he was a risk. In a hurry, Emil had put himself between them.

"Thomas! We are on the same side! Now, Selene has risked a great deal to come here as well."

She steps around Emil. "Maybe you like living a lie, Thomas, but I don't, I hope the rest of you don't." She punctuated her last words and looked around the room. Their complacency had made them weak, and this was all for nothing. She'd succeeded only in exposing herself, thankfully she hadn't revealed where she and Michael were staying, even to Emil. "You can have this life. I'm gone." She walked out, her disgust evident. Emil followed her. "I have to go, I can't trust them."

"But you can trust me, can't you? Wait!" She paused. "I can get into Visegrad, I can get what we need. Just tell me what to look for."

She did trust him. "Just make sure _they_ don't know that you're helping me." She nods toward the safe house. "I don't want to see you hurt, there won't be much I can do for you." He watched her turn to go.

"I'll meet you again two nights from now, here."

* * *

The midnight meeting was hardly a success, and right now she had to put plenty of distance between that safe house and herself. At least she had Emil. She hated to endanger him, but the way she looked at it, they were in danger all along, for hundreds of years. She drove around the city until daybreak. 

She decided to take to the same rooftop where the Werewolves' scent was so strong the morning before, witnessing another sunrise over the city. There was nothing today, and anyway, she was still pissed about the gathering with Emil and his friends. Truth is, she was feeling a freedom that she'd forgot, and it was the silliest of things, the being outside when she chose.

Sun overhead, at 1pm she decided to leave her hiding spot beside the large AC unit. But as she stood, she lost balance and staggered backward just a step, _Shit!_ _No no, not now!_ It hit her hard and fast, her hand shook as she braced herself for stability, imagining it would go away. Her one thought, _get off this damned roof,_ she pictured the SUV a block and a half away. As soon as this passed, just a little bit, she'd jump. She waited.

He was 2 buildings over and a little higher, he'd been watching for more than an hour. Tymon would never believe him - _in sunlight! _He was only going to watch and report, but something hooked him in - he saw her stand up and sway,_ that's not right,_ maybe it was his lucky day. He quickly made the jump to the next building, keeping himself from view. She stayed with her hand flat against the framework of the chiller, it seemed she was holding on. He couldn't stand it, _when you get a shot, you should take it,_ he cleared the distance to her building and charged her.

She only wavered for 30 seconds, but it was enough. She needed to jump down to a lower roof, NOW, there's no way she'd attempt the longer drop all the way down to the street. She never smelled him, all she could think of was getting to the car.

He was 30 feet from her, closing 8 yards in less than a second. She heard him huff and turned as he tackled her over the parapet, a pile of people hitting the surface 16 feet below. He heard her crack to the rooftop beneath him, he flipped away from her still in his human form, she had taken the full weight of their fall. She was hurt, she tried to roll to her feet, but her knees buckled beneath her. She pushed herself up again, bracing her elbows on the tar beneath her, trying for breath, getting pain in her side and back. She needed out of there now or he would kill her. Her eyes glowed blue as she brought her right gun to bear from beneath her coat. He roundhoused her arm and kicked the gun away.

"So you're Selene." He looked down at her. "Thought you'd be harder to kill."

She forced herself to her feet and backed away from him, weaving, grabbed her left hand gun and he was on her. He twisted her arm behind her, threw the gun away and rammed her sideways into the brick wall. She reached back, successfully elbowing him hard in the face and sending him onto his back. She should be stronger than him, but he's functioning at 100 percent and she's not. He flipped to his feet and lunged at her.

Furious to get out of there, she threw a hard punch to the side of his head, then tried for another. He blocked it and grabbed her arm and spun her. Behind her now he got his left arm under her left and he braced his hand against her neck, trying to get her into a full-nelson. She fought to keep her right arm free to reach down for the knife in her boot. He put all his strength on her, forcing her head down and her left arm up at the shoulder, and pushed her headfirst into the wall. They struggled. When he found he wasn't beating her so easily, he started to change, his fingers elongated and his nails turned to long claws. He had his left hand thumb down around the back of her neck, so, he squeezed hard, digging through the leather of her coat and into the flesh of her neck, with his other hand did the same to her right arm-claws tearing into her right bicep. Now fully Lycan, he towered over her. He shook her, trying to tear her apart, embedding his fingers farther into her. She screamed out and dropped to the ground. Now, she could get to her knife, and she drew all of her focus to pull the blade. She gripped it downward in her hand and slashed back at him, stabbing him, 3, 4, 5 times, he gave her an opening and she turned on him thrusting the knife into the side of his neck - and like the hurt dog that he was he jumped forward and right off the roof, gone.

She was in bad shape. She felt blood run down her back and arm. If she sat down, she knew she'd never get up. She didn't even think of her guns there, and left them behind. She tumbled to her knees and hands when she jumped to the ground, the most ungracious landing, and forced herself to run, _Get to the car!_

She threw herself in and slammed it into drive. Digging in the cooler for bags of blood she had, she unceremoniously bit in, she had to stay together and on the road, and avoid the police while flying home. She sucked the blood in, felt little relief from her injuries, it wasn't enough. Her head ached and her eyes blurred, getting worse with every mile.

She has almost made it, 4 empty bags of blood on the passenger floor, _almost there!_ She spun out on the left turn to Farmos, when it hit her again, a wave of fever, pain and nausea, she was done -

"Michael!", she flipped her cel phone open.

"What is it?!" He heard panic.

"I'm injured, I'm . . ."

"Where are you?!"

"I'm almost there. . ." She couldn't form words and drive, and dropped the phone. She turned onto the dirt road to the house, _Just 4 miles._ He freaked, he had only hope that she'd make it back, had no idea how close she was.

She braked hard and slid to a stop, a cloud of dust rolling, the SUV half in the garage. She slumped in her seat, an untapped bag of blood shaking in her hands, he was there, ready. When he went to her, saw a gash over her eyebrow and blood down to her chin. "What happened?!" He picked her up and carried her in, fairly dumped her on the dining table, her boots thudded down, blood covering his arms and shirt. "Jesus Christ! Where is it coming from!?" A lot of blood.

He makes a quick decision - he'd already brought up some jars of the blood he'd harvested, he would first put in an IV in the back of her left hand to start a transfusion, then he'd locate her wounds. He opened her coat, saw the tears in her sleeve and blood coming from her shoulder.

He pushed her over onto her left side and she called out, extremely pained. He pulled her coat off her arm and with a scissors cut her suit from the back of the collar down, then pulled the garment away. "Shit Selene, _SHIT!!"_ 5 large gouges around her neck and shoulders, and damage on her right arm that he wouldn't be able to discern until the bleeding stopped. She was getting weaker, shaking, she started to convulse. He pressed his hands against her, trying to slow blood flow, trying to keep her still and felt fever emanating from her.

He'd packed gauze on the worst bleeder on her neck, replaced it a least a dozen times. She had long since passed out, and he'd given her a lot of blood, _a lot. _Finally, she'd made some progress, he wrapped her wounds and laid her on her back.

She was hurt badly, but she didn't respond to the blood, natural or sythetic, as well as she should have. Her body's natural ability to heal was not serving her, he's certain it's related to whatever's making her sick, and that's made her unable to defend herself. _Ever since Corvinus._

He sat at the table and waited.


	5. Chapter 5

_"This was never Viktor's house, I've simply come to claim what was rightly mine." _

* * *

"Let him continue, Catherine."

She turned back to Thomas, motioned for him to speak.

"She says that this is Viktor's mansion, and that there is history contained here that will acquit her."

"Let her come."

"Careful Catherine. She's a persistent young woman and right now she is more powerful than you."

"That will soon change! There is no history that can save her except that which has not yet been written. I say, Let her come! That would certainly make this easier, and I will be the first to drink her!" She turned back to Thomas. "When will you see her again?"

"Well, I told her I would hear no more of her treachery, but I thought I should tell you."

"Is there anyone else that she will go to? Who else will stand at my side!"

* * *

Matthias Corvinus was born of Hungarian nobility in Kolozsvár/Klausenburg, or present-day Cluj-Napoca, Transylvania. In 1458, he was just 15 years old when he became King of Hungary.

His short reign increased the financial strength of the country and changed the face of Hungary, he brought in a strong influence of Mediterranean culture. His reign encompassed Moravia, Silesia, and Lusatia. Later he was also crowned King of Croatia, King of Bohemia and Duke of Austria. The combined wealth of these countries along with that of Hungary is unfathomable, and unknown, as it seems to have disappeared after his death.

In Budapest today stands Matthias Church, and Bibliotheca Corviniana, Europe's greatest collection of historical, philosophic and scientific works of the 15th century, which is second only in size to the Vatican Library. Visegrád, a small town north of Budapest near the Danube Bend, is where he built his summer palace.

While the opulence in which he lived was funded by high tax, he wouldn't allow mistreatment of his people by the barons, and established public health and education and a new legal system. He was a ruler of justice and great wisdom, hence labelled by the people, 'Matthias the Just'. His image is found today on Hungarian currency, the 1000 forint, last issued in 2006.

Matthias' empire collapsed after his death, since he had no children except for an illegitimate son, János Corvinus, whom the noblemen of the country didn't accept as their king. He was the direct descendant of Alexander Corvinus through his third son, the mortal one, who carried the Corvinus Strain, from whom descended Michael Corwin.

It is believed that an older relative may have been responsible for the manipulation of Matthias' wealth after his death.

* * *

Tymon was anxious to speak with Catherine, he had fascinating news to tell her.

"I told you she was not to be attacked. If you kill her, it will be you that I hunt. Can I make that any more clear to you?"

"I understand, but my man said that an opportunity presented and he took it. He lost control, it won't happen again."

"What sort of 'opportunity'?"

"She seemed weakened, possibly ill. But her will was intact, and she escaped from him."

"Where did she go? Was the hybrid with her?"

"He didn't see once she got away from him." The truth was, Philip barely escaped with her knife sticking from the side of his neck, but she didn't need to know that. "But there's more, much more." Tymon was pleased with himself, about to strike a killing blow. . .

"It was day, she was in the sun."

Catherine look like she'd explode.

* * *

Emil walked through the halls like a king. Ordoghaz was elegant, but Visegrad was so much more, and possibly twice as large. The grounds included more than 600 acres, the fence immediately around the mansion's nearly 40 acres was similar in structure and height to that of the old residence. He marvelled that he had never been here, or heard of it even. Viktor had kept his ownership of Visegrad secret, likely because of the treasures hoarded here, 1000 year old art and relics from throughout Europe, pages of history stripped from other countries.

He was wandering, Selene told him to look for any store of books in the house, she was sure he'd find there the writings of Tannis. Viktor had him exiled for publishing the truth, but that didn't mean that his works were destroyed. In fact, this was the only place left that she thought that their history would yet exist. The covenant they had lived under forbade them from reading their own history, hence, old and dirty secrets were easy to hide.

He opened room after room, then he came to the vast library. What he sought would not be on a shelf, available to all. He entered the library and quietly closed the door behind him. At the far end of the room, there was another door, locked, this is it. He'd complete his task.


	6. Chapter 6

Midnight again, he sees her stir.

She opens her mouth, not her eyes, and takes in what seems to be a hard-won deep breath, arches her back. He hears a popping, the sound of bones moving, in her chest? her back? sees her face twist, and she goes to sleep. It reminds him of morphing into his hybrid form, how it expands and alters his skeletal structure. He thinks by the bruising he'd seen that she'd broken a few ribs, he hoped that was all, and he hoped that sound he just heard was her body mending. Who knew. What he did know was that she couldn't take much more of this.

Hell,_ he_ couldn't take much more of this. He couldn't let her go off without him again.

* * *

Her eyes opened mid-morning, she'd be slow-moving today. He had closed the blinds downstairs, the dining room was dim and grey. He had removed her bandages during the night.

"So, what happened?"

She sat up slowly, checking her surroundings, takes in the sight of herself on the table. She rolled off it to stand but is unsteady, stilled herself against the table, then sat down stiffly, opposite him. She sees him. He didn't move. She looked like a _bad_ fucking hangover. She crossed her arms, holding what was left of her top to her.

"I need to change."

His arms were folded, closing himself off from her too. "I said, What happened, Selene?" A little louder that time. She was fine now, and he had a right to do this.

"I was attacked by a Lycan, and I lost."

"No, if you'd have lost, you'd be dead, and I'd have NO FUCKING IDEA where to look for you. So, what happened, or do you want me to guess? How did _a single_ Lycan do this to you!"

"I became ill, I was distracted, and he attacked me."

He knew it. "Dammit, that's why I told you, you can't do this alone. . ._the second time it happens to you_ and you almost died as a result."

"Actually. . .it was the third time." He's shown her up, she had lied to him, and now he was pissed.

"So the _first_ time you went to the city, it happened. . .3 days in a row then, and you said nothing to me? In fact, you told me you were fine."

"It passed. I fed and it passed."

"Well, guess what, nothing that has to do with the coven is worth your life. . ." Now he's got her attention.

"It_ is_ my life, Michael. It's my home, my family, of. . .centuries, it's all I have. I think it's worth defending, and if you don't think so. . ."

"It's _over_ Selene, maybe it's time you realize that you _have_ lost. Maybe you need to accept that you never had anything, the life you mourn for was all deception." He feels like laying into her for nearly dying. "Maybe it's you who can't accept that what you've _lived for _and_ fought for_ was never real."

She glares at him and gets up. "Fuck off, Michael." She walks around the table toward the stairs. He stands up to confront her.

"You're not dealing with this rationally, in fact, you're not dealing with it at all. If you were, you wouldn't have put yourself in jeopardy. It was _stupid_!"

"Yes, tell me about rational behavior!" He ignores that. She pushes past him and heads for their room. He follows her in.

"Viktor didn't just lie to you, he lied to all of you; the elders lied to everyone about where they came from. Don't underestimate the impact of that. Have you considered for a minute that there may be _nothing left_ to save!"

"NO, and I won't! You mourn for your wife, but your life didn't stop. Mine has, _THAT'S_ the difference between us! THAT'S why you don't get this!"

"I _get it_, I get that you feel the need to punish yourself for things you've done,_ I get_ that you have a death wish! _Maybe that's what Viktor saw in you!"_ As soon as he said it, he knew it was too much.

"BACK OFF!" She turns back to him, fuming, within inches of his face. Uncontrollably, her eyes changed.

"And if you were thinking rationally. . ." he lowers his voice, and pauses long, he wants to diffuse this, ". . .you wouldn't want to fight me right now."

She stepped back, leveled her eyes with his for half a minute, breathing hard. "That was. . ." She stops, shakes her head, her breath overtaking her words.

Her chin drops.

He knows he went too far. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean. . ."

When she lifts her eyes to him again, they are brown and brimming. "You can't know what it's like, Michael, the fear I feel, the isolation. Everything's gone, and now. . .I can't control _this._ . ." Even her own body has betrayed her.

His heart breaks, he places a hand to her cheek. Of course she's afraid, he hadn't considered that. "I'm sorry. We just, we have to figure out what's wrong with you first, that's all." She needed that, needed him, the way they fall together when everything else falls apart. She stepped close to him, leaned her forehead to his shoulder. "You can't die." He puts his arms around her.

It was over.

He unzipped her the rest of the way and slowly peeled the suit from her, and led her to the bed. Without saying a word, they climbed under covers. They could forget about the world for a while.

* * *

She awoke at sunset and didn't move, just laid there against him. Barely any light in the room, she looked about. She realized that when they first came here 4 nights ago, she led them to this room by impulse. It had been her room; now, she supposes the whole house was hers, unless another heir of Viktor's were to appear. She could possibly make it her home, make it _their_ permanent home, if she survived this. Maybe not, maybe they should burn it down and leave, and maybe he was right. Maybe she'd become so hell-bent on fixing everything, she'd lost focus, and maybe there was nothing left to fix.The only thing she was certain of was that she felt safe with him, and that he cared for her. No one had ever truly done that.

He had insisted that she take it easy. That night and all the next day, they spent at the house, together. The time passed like nothing, effortless, gentle, comfortable. This is what it should always be like.

At around 7 the next evening as they sat together, he realized something. She hadn't presented any symptoms in almost two whole days. Maybe he had just put two and two together.

"I have a theory. You're not gonna like it."

She waits.

"Sunlight. You've only had these attacks after you've been in the sun. And now, you haven't seen sunlight since about 48 hours ago."

She held her breath. He was right, she'd been fine since then.

"I thought it could have been caused by Corvinus' blood alone, but that wouldn't make sense because I have Corvinus blood. But I think it has altered your vampire physiology enough to make you susceptible to ultraviolet rays after a few hours, but obviously, different from how it affected you before." He's figuring this out as he goes. "_That's why. . ._I think _that's why_ your illness mirrors the symptoms of radiation sickness so closely. And _that's why_ you don't heal like you should!"

"But why?"

"Ultraviolet irradiation present in sunlight is an environmental human carcinogen. Where a human would get a sunburn from UV rays, they somehow affect you as though you've been exposed to large amounts of radioactive material, which destroys bone marrow and damages organs, causing internal bleeding. Yesterday you probably bled _out_ just as much as you did internally. What normally would have been enough blood for you to heal and regain your strength, well, it just wasn't enough."

"You're right, I don't like it."

"But in a mortal, the exposure would be fatal within only hours, at least you can recover."

She can't believe this. Another huge disappointment.

"Selene, you're stronger now than any elder you've known, with this incredible ability. . ."

". . .that I can't use." She exhaled and looked away.

"No, that you have to limit. At least we know. You can prevent it, or at least prepare for it."

They'll meet with Emil tonight, she hopes for just one thing to go right.

* * *

She drives into town to the safe house, he waits in the ML.

She punches in the security code and goes in. Inside, it's Thomas, by himself, and looking agitated. He paces right up to her.

"He's_ not_ here. They took him!"

"What! Where is he?" Their exchange is heated.

"They caught him doing what _you_ asked. They are going to kill him if you don't turn yourself over to Catherine. I told him to stay away from you!"

"Did they take him to Visegrad?" She cut him off.

"I don't know. I was told to tell you that if you care to save his life, to go to the Gyozo Street overpass, the safe house there. They're waiting for you. End this! If you care anything for him, _end this!" _

_FUCK fuck fuck!_

As she approaches the car her eyes meet Michael's, they follow each other as she walks around to the driver's seat. He'd swear he saw her bite her lip she was so tense. Something's wrong.

"They've taken him, they want me in exchange for him."

_"SHIT! NO, _Selene, this is ridiculous, tell me you're not considering this!"

"I know you Michael, and you would do the same thing if it was someone close to you. There's nothing to argue about."

"It _IS_ someone close to me, I can't let you walk into this."

"I'm sorry, but you don't get to make that choice." He _hates_ it, but he understands it, he really does.

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I have to go, they'll kill him."

"They'll kill you."

She wipes her hand across her face, angry at herself. "I should have left him out of this."

"He made his own decision."

_"Fuck!"_


	7. Chapter 7

Their drive would take them across the river and a few miles north of downtown. Mostly they were silent. As they passed over the Margit, Michael caught himself looking out over the Danube with sentimentality, like one often does near bodies of water, he thought that was dumb. He considered for a minute having her stop the car, putting an end to it all. He turned and watched her drive, she was miles from him, and not any happier than he was. This whole mess was out of control. 

He got out blocks ago. Her only chance existed in him, it was stupid, but it was all they had. He would stay close and back her up, hope to pull her out of this before they were too outnumbered, or before she gave up--truth is he was concerned that she'd put half-effort into this and let herself be taken easily, out of fear for him.

The streets were dead and dark, few cars were parked here and there, the only signs of daily life. It had been an apartment building, 3 stories, most of the units were converted to office space before Kraven purchased it. She parked across the street, with the front of the ML almost cater-cornered to the front entrance, got out. She smelled them.

Michael had placed himself on the overpass, behind the building, he could see the entire intersection. He could see why they picked this location--to the south there was road construction, to the west a dead end at the overpass, to the east was a freeway onramp just blocks away--they could be gone with her in a minute. He watched her walk to the middle of the street out front. A group of them came out. There were 9 Death Dealers, and he could make out 4 Lycans in human form. He transformed.

She stood still as the group fanned out in a semi-circle approaching her. Emil was at the center, a vampire had his arm straight out, holding a gun to the back of Emil's head.

"Drop your weapons, Selene!" She angled her head down slightly, brow-furrowed, her eyes moving, studying her situation. She only recognized one of them--the Lycan who tried to kill her 2 days earlier. The rest of the vampires must be from the American coven.

"You'll let him go first."

"You're not giving orders. I'll shoot him." Joseph lead these new Death Dealers. "You have no options."

"Just release him. I need to know that you won't kill him."

"Fine!" He pushed Emil away from him, the younger vampire stumbled forward then took seven steps from him, half the distance to her. "Stop! That's enough. Now, do it, Selene."

She pushed her coat back exposing a pistol at each side, unholstered them and tossed them away with one hand, they slid to a stop ten feet to her right. Philip went and picked them up.

"Now, down on your knees." He'd take no chances.

She did it.

"Give him the keys."

She reached into the inside pockets of her coat, shook the keys, getting their attention. She pulled out another gun. She came up firing and moving laterally, they wouldn't be able to react in time. They split up, it was frantic. Instantly, she killed two of them, wounded one. Emil hit the ground, covering his head. Just as fast, Michael was behind them,grabbed two and crushed their throats. She grabbed Emil off the ground and sprinted to the front of the building, firing as she moved backwards, hoping to make it to the corner of the structure, to cover. She killed another vampire. Michael was embroiled with a Lycan, in full form, slashing, punching, throwing. Joseph, Tymon and Philip and another vampire scrambled and separated. She saw an opportunity to run across the street to the ML, they took it.

Just when they made it to the car, two sets of headlights came on to her right, a block away, and they were coming straight for her.

She turned back to her left and saw Michael finish off the Lycan. He yelled to her, "Go, GO!" and jumped to the roof of the next building. He was safe. She had to make a u-turn to get distance between herself and the cars behind.

As they passed below, Michael leapt down, and onto the roof of the second car. He rammed his hand into the passenger side window, and pulled out a vampire, greasing the passing pavement below with him. The other passengers opened up automatic fire on him, almost point blank. He swung himself up onto the roof. Joseph, Tymon and Philip and another blood had got into a car in the alley on the east side of the apartment building, and they were gaining.

Michael looked back at the headlights behind him. Joseph opened fire on him as Tymon drove. Michael lost grip and fell off the car. Tymon swerved to miss him. Philip shot at him as they flew past.

Selene is tearing past buildings, stores. She's setting the pace for this chase, and she means to get away. She fires back through the rear window. Emil was watching the cars behind them. "Here!" She puts the gun in his hands. He takes aim. Three blocks down, she made a left. A hard right after the construction zone and she nailed it, putting distance between the cars. She wished she'd had a more agile vehicle,_ but this is fast,_ the V10 in the ML was worth it's weight right now. As a mile or more passes, she thinks they might actually pull this off.

As they approach a cross street, they're t-boned at speed by another car of vampires. The front end of the ute bucks, glass flies, they spin out, out of control, and crash to a stop, his side of the car wrapped around a utility pole. He's on the floor, if she was injured in the crash, he'd never know it. She pushed her door open and dragged him out. Occupants of the wrecked car are getting their bearings and will be after them. Joseph sees this all play out up ahead of him. 

They run, heading into an alley. Lots of ways to get away, she's done this before, plenty. But they now have probably 12 enemies chasing them and they're shooting. She draws her second weapon, returning fire. They hook around into a walkway between buildings and run for all they're worth. Residences above them, clothes lines, fire escapes pass out of reach. The passageway twists and turns, keeping their pursuers out of view. It ends and they're spilled out into the street. Across the way, there's a park, where they make their course, away from the lights of the neighborhood. It's quiet. She knows she hasn't lost them yet.

Michael lost her miles ago, no scent. _She has to make it._

"This way!" Emil's running, toward the open of a parking lot. It's not smart, so she yells to him. Just then, gunfire. He alters his way toward her and they continue, jumping a chain link fence at the end of the park. They're in a storage yard full of construction vehicles and equipment. Gunshots are closer now, rounds erupt on the tank of a water truck as they dive behind the cab, liquid pouring out on the ground. She hears footfall as their hunters jump over the fence as well. 

Sounds now are coming from every direction. She walked slowly, holding the fabric of Emil's jacket shoulder, pulling him, keeping him close, she felt responsible for him. She looks all around them, takes it all in. 

"We can make it to the entrance of the yard, clear the fence and go." She nods in that direction, behind a row of medium-duty trucks."Stay with me." She whispers.

She makes her move, Emil right with her. Gunshots sound from two directions. They can't slow down now. 

He drops from her grip behind her and hits the ground._ "Selene I'm hit!"_ She turned back to him.Tymon was waiting, he had come up behind her, and hit her across the shoulders with a 3 foot length of pipe, she hit the ground forward on all fours. There's movement where she had been standing. She was down for just a second, but leapt up, her concern for Emil driving her.

She would ignore her assailant for now. She turned around to find Emil to tell him to run. And there he is, standing three feet from her. He's got the Beretta pointed at her chest. 

She looks down at the weapon in his hand, then to his face. She can't believe it. In her surprise, she hesitates. He fired. The bullet goes in 3 inches below her left collar bone, she staggers a little, "Emil" she exhaled, looked down at the wound. The hollow point doesn't go through her. She drops straight down on her knees from the pain and shock of it, her face contorts. Tymon is there. She started to raised her gun. He clocked her again with the pipe, hard, in the back of her head. She's down. He hits her again.

* * *

She'd been in the tunnels under Kerepesi before. She interrogated and tortured Lycans. She didn't like it there, it was all, too. . .what word did she use? Oh. Brutal. That was it. The noise. The howling, the anguish, the sound was echoing, it was everywhere, overwhelming, like it's coming from your own head. 

Just within her blurry view to her right, there's a bright light, bare bulb, it's hanging from a cord. That doesn't make sense. She can't make it out clearly, but she thinks it's her own voice she's hearing. She screams then bites down, clenching her teeth, _she does not scream_. In her half-conscious state she feels herself wriggle, and is weighed down. When she fully comes to, she finds she's on her back, hands cuffed behind her, under her.

They are holding her down, one has a needlenose pliers and is digging for the bullet. It _was_ coming from her own head.

He's really hurting her. She struggles against them. "HOLD still!" He can't get a grip on it. Her eyes are vivid blue, and her blood is running, pooling beneath her and in the notch at the base of her throat. In this fray, in between her voice, she's coughing, she tastes her own blood. The copper and lead bullet has ripped a hole in her lung.

Joseph is irritated it's taking so long. "Just, so what! Get it out. We can't very well have Catherine know that we've shot her."

"I have to cut it open, there are fragments." See, it _can_ always get worse.

"DO IT, and let's get on with this!"

Then she sees _him_. Despite the pain they are causing her, she's stunned to see Emil standing above her. "What did she promise you? What do you get?" Her voice is raspy. Tymon and Philip watch this.

Emil bends down to her, aids them in holding her down, his forearm across her neck. "I'll be happy to explain it to you, Selene." She cries out one last time as the mushroomed bullet is pulled out. He slapped her to keep her from slipping away. She shakes off the dimness she's feeling.

They pick her up by her arms, and she made a move for him. _"Why?"_ They hold her back.

He punched her in the face. They make sure they've divested her of all her weapons.

"You were nothing but Viktor's spoiled child, entitled and arrogant." She looks at him, disbelieving, she parts her lips to speak, he halts her. "Don't go there. . .don't remind me of how my life was saved by the benevolent Selene." Her mind goes back to that first time, a century and a half ago, when she fought for his safety. She got shot that night too, for him. "That was supposed to end with your death. We drew you there, _I _drew you there." He pushes his index finger at his chest, he's proud of himself. "Rigel was supposed to have been dispatched elsewhere, but he waited for you, said he grew concerned at what was detaining you. If it wasn't for him none of this would have happened, I'd have killed you 150 years ago."

She's crushed. "_What_ did I do to you?"

"Oh, none of that's enough? Right. How about this: You were so engrossed in your conspiracy that you left Nathaniel to die."

"No! Kraven wouldn't allow a search party. . ."

"And if you had focused on anything besides yourself and that Hybrid, he'd be alive." He drops his voice. "We found him, but shit, you wouldn't know that. Yes, right where you abandoned him, barely alive. If you'd done your job, he would have lived, but you left him to them, and they tore him apart. _What I get_ is a life of glory. You're about to get what's been due you for a long time!"

The one who did the 'surgery' pierced a bag of cloned blood, he forced it into her mouth. She chokes on it mostly, ingests what she can. 

"I've had enough of your reunion. Let's get to this."

She feels more arms on her, someone grabs a fistful of hair and yanks her head back. They unzip her midway and pull her garment from her right shoulder. She's fights, but by now she's been punched in the head quite enough. _"Hold the fuck still!"_ She gives up to their grip.

Tymon and Philip now back up, eyeing each other, a little disbelief there. This isn't what they signed up for. 

Joseph now faces her, baring fangs. "You didn't think this was placed in motion to kill you, did you? Let me assure you of your immortality!" He moved for the soft bend where her neck meets shoulder. She gasped when his teeth cut her. He drinks. She thinks she'll pass out. Finished, he backs up, breathless.

He grips her jaw, bringing her eyes back to him. "How long will it take?" 

Her mouth is dry, her head spinning.

_"How LONG will it take?"_ He shakes her.

"WHAT!"

Joseph closed his eyes, feeling a rush. Not the flashing lights he expected, but it was something. 

"Anything?" They pry him.

He pulls Emil back to her. "Drink her, my brother!"

Tymon steps up. "Why are you doing this? _How_ can you do this?" 

Joseph is punch drunk. "We've assured our own grand future now. We'll be unstoppable!" 

"How? Her blood?" 

"The oldest blood, the birth of an army!"

Tymon gets it. Supercharged vampires who can operate in daylight, and this arrangement just became less appealing. He is relieved to see that Philip is on the same page. 

"You don't take issue with this, do you, Tymon?"

"Not at all, my lord." He tried hard to sound convincing. He looked at what they were doing to her, hiding his disgust.

There are 12 vampires. They all got a turn at her.

"Clean her up, and make sure she's strong enough and her wounds have disappeared completely before we leave."


	8. Chapter 8

The black Mercedes Sprinter van tools its way north on road 11. 

The posse filled the bench seats, facing each other. She sits on the metal floor. Her body is tucked in, her side leaned into the seat. Her wrists are cuffed behind her. Tymon looks at her, careful that she doesn't see. She's staring at the back windows, staring past him.

Some of them are talking, animated, he doesn't pay attention to what, he doesn't care. Every once in a while, he sees one of them, Lionel, punctuate what he's saying by kicking her with the bottom of his boot from across the way. Not hard, just enough to remind her that she has no control. They laugh. She doesn't move.

_And we're the animals._

Tymon's sure he'd have gone ballistic by now with the annoyance, and maybe she's a bigger person than he is. Or maybe she's just through. They were both warriors, killing with the same fervor and commitment. He catches another glance, his eyes stay on her for a moment. She's healed, but shaky. He'd been there, beat, broken, and brought back from the edge of his life, he knows how you want to just crawl someplace dark and turn it all off, you can remind yourself that you're alive later. Immortality sucks that way, you get injured, you heal, some die, you get over it. And somehow, it becomes your whole life. Throwing yourself back into it over and over again, it robs you, every time takes more of your soul away, he remembered a time that he had one. She's motionless, expressionless, and it's killing him. He still couldn't believe they'd tortured and fed on one of their own, and from the sound of things, it was far from over. This was never about justice. He understood war, and _this _wasn't war, this was cruelty, unfathomable cruelty, and their plot more evil and potentially devastating than he'd ever intended to get involved in. _Plot_, he considered, more insidious. No longer _plan_. He and Philip share a look, _this doesn't feel right anymore_. Before tonight, they talked about what they might do, how their lives would change after this. Yet the vampires will all soon have the capacity to enslave the Lycan race again--hell the whole _human_ race--and it horrifies him. Why would he want to help them gain limitless power? And the resistance to sunlight? While the war was at it's apex, daytime was their one respite from the vampires. 

He sees the medieval citadel on the hill. They're here.

The van slows at the gate. Unmoving, she looks right at him, as though she knows. He's been staring at her, he catches himself, embarrassed. He doesn't look away, for a minute they're fixed on each other. The look bares his averseness, he knows she sees it.

* * *

They walk her fast through the house, her legs hardly keep up. In the 1st floor ballroom Catherine has placed a throne for herself, the mockery complete. Three massive chandeliers almost fill the otherwise empty oblong room, the walls covered in Baroque frescos framed within ornate, curved gilded pilasters--the only original decor in the room. 

Eight of them enter. She motions for Joseph and Lionel to bring Selene close to her. They approach.

"Let her go." Selene doesn't realize her state, that she's dependent on their support. She falls to her knees, and almost completely sags to the marble floor. _Not exactly how she pictured her last stand. _Catherine looks at them all. She smells blood. She knows what they've done and it angers her. "Well?" She directs to Joseph.

His chest heaves, full of himself. "I am _stronger_." He grins, he wouldn't lie to his queen.

"Then feed her!" 

His face drops. He is quickly obedient. He disappears between columns to her right. She studies Selene, the younger vampire's gaze is locked to the floor. He returns a minute later with a bag of cow's blood. He bites the corner, pulls her head up and forces it upon her to drink. It's sloppy, but she's past the point of appearances; she'll hide the fact that she's grateful for real blood, as her body regenerates a bit more. She brings her shoulder up to smudge the blood from her chin.

Catherine addresses her now. "Stand before me!"

Selene manages to her feet without her hands to steady herself. Her coat is long gone.

"You have broken the chain of the elders, the covenant, and _defiled_ yourself with a Lycan!" Only then does Selene look up at her. "You slew Viktor, by your own hand you killed an elder and nearly destroyed this clan!"

Selene actually sighed, she'd been through all this before.

"What do you say in your defense!"

"Why am I still alive? Why am I here?" 

Catherine laughs. "You're here to make recompense for your transgressions."

"And,_ Lady_ Catherine, why are _you_ here, in Viktor's house? It was never intended as a residence for the coven, certainly not for the American coven! You have no right to it."

_"This isn't Viktor's house, I'm simply claiming what was rightly mine."_ A voice came from her right.

Selene recognized it immediately. He came out, walked right up to her. "Mine."

Alexander Corvinus.

Catherine sits back and watches their exchange.

_"You,"_ she hissed. "How?" 

Selene stares at him, unbelieving. He ignored her question. "Tell me, was it difficult? Did they suffer?" His face shows sincerity.

She looks at him incredulously._ His sons._ "I can't believe after all they've done, that you'd care to know."

"But you _were_ successful." His eyes brightened. "Did they suffer?" He awaited the answer.

She swallowed hard, trying to figure out what was happening. "Of course they suffered, and they deserved much more!" Burn. "You were all but dead!"

"You simply believed that my blood was spilled beyond recovery."

"Then why. . ."

"I told you, I couldn't kill my own sons." That arrogance again.

"But you could use me to do it."

"And you readily accepted, you acted out of duty."

"Why me, why now? You could have done this _centuries_ ago."

He starts to circle her slowly as he speaks. She looks straight ahead, stunned with disbelief. "Because of the imperviousness I developed 14 centuries ago, and being neither vampire nor Lycan, my blood is pure. To pass along my strength, it could only mix with a vampire of direct descent such as a child of Viktor's. When you became engrossed in uncovering Kraven's conspiracy, there were greater workings afoot, and your determination made you the perfect subject." She feels even more duped as he continues. "With Amelia and Viktor killed, Catherine could rule the Old World coven along with those loyal to her from America, but to sip of Europe's wealth, we needed you." He pauses and looks off. "My sons _were_ monsters, but by their birthright they stood in the way of the world's largest fortune, that of King Matthias. You came to me looking for justice, to make everything right and I helped you. . .I helped you to defeat the hindrances to my ultimate plan." She knows of Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary at the time she was sired--Hungary was a greater and larger nation at that time. This is_ his house._ She's catching on.

"It was you and your sons who hid the wealth of Matthias, distributed it, kept it from his own son."

"His _illigitimate _son!"

"And Viktor's end of the bargain included Visegrad."

"He orchestrated William's capture, and in return. . .my dear, the treasures of gold, art, and land that lie untouched. . ._your head would spin. _He received more than his share. Now it is for us to reclaim all of it."

She turns around to look at him, sickened. "And my blood will serve your end." _She'd spill it all herself first_.

"Ah, your purpose has just begun. You felt your strength grow the moment you drank of me, didn't you! I suspected that with you would inherit my tolerance to sunlight. _Your blood_ will produce a new, stronger, unrelenting race of vampires that will sweep all of Europe and conquer it." He raises his fist. "They will all feed on _you_. . .And they will walk in the light!" 

_Selene's mind flashed back to just that moment: "What will I become?"_

_"The future!"_

He had meant his own.

She sensed the air move behind her, Catherine was right there. Her teeth sunk in.

* * *

The sun is cresting, soft light cushions the air. Michael is desperate to get home. He hijacks a box van. Poor driver was out early completing morning deliveries, and left the truck running to retrieve his clipboard. Michael jumped at the chance. He lacks the 'hotwiring' skills that Selene has, he'd have to work on that. He hoped she made it to the house. Once there, he runs in.

"Selene!" He's run through the whole house. _They have her. _At the dining table he pauses, thinking, what should he do, _what would she do?_ and how much time does she have. How he might have failed her for good.

He gathers together handguns and rifles, and all the ammo and blood he could carry.

He heads back to the city, to seek the aid of Lycans, back to the Underworld.

* * *

He left the van in a parking garage, wanting it off the street and out of sight. His senses pick up a scent near the tunnels. He proceeds, the air getting fuller. He's getting deeper and deeper, he changes. Suddenly he's charged by two Lycan guards, they present in attack stance, and stop. They face off for a full minute, neither wanting the fight. They fear the Hybrid.

He transforms again, taking his human face. They do likewise.

"You're Michael."

"I need help. Who's leading you now?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I told you I need your help!"

They glance at each other, agreeing to trust him for who he is.

"Come with us."

They walked for what felt like nearly two miles. Things were more stable since Lucian's death and that of the elders, but they felt the need to submerge themselves below the city even more. They had learned to distrust the bloods a millenium ago.

The tunnel opened up into a large area.

"Wait here." More of them, in human form, filled the room, surrounding him. A hundred, by his estimate, possibly more that he couldn't see.

"Michael." A voice behind him.

"I am Anthony. Your presence here is a surprise."

"Not an unwelcome one I hope."

He doesn't address that. The pause is a little awkward.

"They have her. Catherine is organizing the vampires for war, and she'll kill Selene. I need your help."

"We all know what Selene did, and we're grateful for the change in our situation. But it doesn't erase history. Our kind was hunted nearly to extinction, many of us killed or wounded by her personally. Now I understand that she was a pawn, but that changes very little."

"It changes everything! When she found out the truth, what she had done disgusted her. She wanted it to end."

"And it has, temporarily. We must brace ourselves for another war. Really, _nothing_ has changed."

_"Yes, everything has changed!"_ Tymon has entered from behind Michael. All eyes turn to him and Philip. _"Everything!"_


	9. Chapter 9

"Do you have something to add, brother?"

"Everything has changed, Anthony. They are building an army, but we won't be ready for it." He turned to Michael. Michael recognizes him.

"YOU!" The tension is instant, Michael faces to attack him.

"Wait! They have her, yes, but they won't kill her."

He addresses the whole group now. "What they are developing will wipe us all out and they'll use Selene, or specifically her blood, to do it."

"From the start Tymon."

"I was captured, and taken to Catherine. In exchange for my life, I agreed to provide her with information. She promised me that I would reap the rewards of great wealth and luxury, that they had something in store that would usher in a new age for them, and us, if we participated." He motioned toward Philip.

Michael faces him. "I should kill you now!" He is horrified by what he hears. "How will they use Selene's blood in this?"

"I don't understand it all, I swear I don't, but Philip saw her out in day, in sunlight."

"So?"

"And this gift is what they pursue, and the strength of her blood. She drank of one of the oldest, his pure blood. They captured her so that they could feed on her. Her blood is changing them into a more powerful breed."

"And you saw this, they are feeding on her?" Michael's disgust slows him down, he sees that Tymon is not the enemy.

"I did. They are. . .ruthless, even with her." He wants to say something to show his sincerity. "It was. . .difficult on her, and it was harder to watch. I left sickened by their animalistic behavior. And I know, they won't stop this war, they have no intention of stopping it. They have spoken of conquering all of Europe. And, there is more."

Michael waits.

"She faced the man whose blood is in her veins, the oldest, the purest. He lives!"

_What?_ Michael is scanning the ground at his feet, like he's lost something. _Selene said that Corvinus lay dying, all but dead. _"He tricked her. Jesus Christ, he tricked her, set all this up. _Didn't he?!"_

"All of it, I'm afraid. He said he used her to kill his sons, manipulated her into drinking of him so that he could use her further."

"We have to get her."

"He has said they will not kill her." Anthony reminds him.

_"I have to_ save her from this."

But as leader, Anthony's mind is organizing for battle, and sentimentality will not save his race.

"Michael, you know what must be done. I'm sorry, but this cannot be allowed to happen."

"NO!! You will not kill her."

"You heard him, their strength increases, and their ambition is at fever pitch."

"You don't understand!"

"I DO understand. They are becoming invincible!"

"NO, listen to me, there may be a way to stop them!"

* * *

They kept her in a weakened state so that she could be handled without great difficulty. She had survived yet another round, the thought of ever drinking from another's living flesh had become putrid to her.

The dungeon below the castle, below the earth, was frigid, and smelled of mold and rot. It was a good place to die, she felt it was completely fitting for her, she decided that. She deserved no better. She thought she'd always done the right thing, she killed for her kind, with greater passion than anyone. When she spat on her whole existence as a sham and a waste, she sought only to make things right. She knew death better than she had known love, and that only briefly, in 600 years this is her only regret. She focused on the pathethic life she'd made, and on the one spot of meaning that Michael had given her. He branded her, he changed her, but love can't save you every time.

In the corner of the dark basement there was a single cell, without cot nor blanket. There was nothing here that would serve her immediate need to end her own life, especially with her wrists locked together behind her.

She sat and waited. Every half hour or so, one of them would come down to look at her, mostly to see if she could bear being devoured again. One was younger than the others, perhaps he could be played to accomplish her wish.

He came down, stood at the door of the cell and looked down at her. It was the same every time. She would take the next opportunity, she had to. She could endure no more, but she held the power to stop them.

"Look at me." He desired to ascertain her condition.

Slowly she lifted her head from her knees, barely.

"I said, _Look at me_."

She ignored him.

"Fucking _woman!_ Look up!!"

She eyed him with such contempt, she aimed to disrespect him. He was afterall, a Death Dealer, and she was a female. No longer a Death Dealer, but a traitor, she was nothing.

"Get up!"

_"Why don't you fuck yourself!"_ She hissed.

He glanced behind him. He was on his own on this one. He'd regret that.

He inched forward, indignant at her, poised for attack. He took the key from his pocket and unlocked the cage. He produced a baton and tested his grip, preparing to strike. She'd met the business end of such a weapon already this day, what's one more time.

He entered.

"Get to your feet."

She drew her feet under her and braced her back against the wall, sliding up it. She was up. He looked her over, his thoughts more on demanding flesh than drawing blood.

He glanced behind him again.

When he turned back to her, she head-butted him, and so dead hard, it stunned even her. She swept his legs from beneath him, putting him onto his back. Then, she dropped down onto the floor, heaving her weight into him, forcing her elbow into his face. He was out cold. _Stupid boy._

She moved over him, her hands awkwardly searching him for a handcuff key, she found it! She got up and moved away from him to concentrate on inserting the key behind her, while watching the stairs. She amazed herself, she was successful. She took his knife from the sheath at his belt, and then, _they were coming! _

_"Roberto, what is keeping you?"_

"STOP!!" Joseph is there at the bottom of the stairs.

She took three quick steps toward the door and pulled it to. It clicked shut, locked, and she backed away from it as he flew at her, rattling the door.

She pulled the boy to his feet and held him in front of herself, put his knife at his throat.

_"BACK OFF!"_

Joseph laughed at her.

"Do it. He is of no consequence." He is unaffected. "Where will you go once you kill him? You won't make it out of this room let alone the palace."

He's right. And she hadn't thought otherwise, she held no hope of escape, it wasn't even close to what she had in mind. She sees him pull a pistol, he'll shoot the boy, taking her shield.

She knew this was her path, this was her only option. She did the only thing she could do, the only thing that would distract him long enough. . .

She slit the young vampire's throat and pushed the body away from her. Then she turned the knife on herself. Like in a rage against her worst enemy, she stabbed it deep into the inside of her own left wrist, and with a smooth swiping movement pulled it up into the bend of her elbow, ernestly destroying veins and artery. She let go a growl, then drove the blade into her own chest, upward into her heart then twisted it and pulled it free. She staggered backward, the knife tittering across the floor.

She felt no pain, only salvation. Her blood was warm to her, it covered her like a blanket. She is losing balance, she's now bracing herself upright in the corner of the cell. She flexes her left hand, making a fist, making the blood pump out of her.

Joseph does not have a key. He is yelling for someone with a key. In his fury he's frantically tearing at the door, but to no avail. More of them pour into the room, there was another key, _Who has a key?!_ They line the bars of the cell, cursing, their own future pouring onto the floor. It's panic, it's confusion, she's weakening. She wants this. The sounds echo all together, her vision swims, and she slumps to the floor, her fist in a knot. Her breath has stopped, and the blood drains, the dark opens for her. She doesn't fight it.

It's one last right thing.

* * *

_**Not the end, and not a suicide fic. Hang tight.**_


End file.
